


I Want To Be Better Than I Am

by DarchangelSkye



Category: Canadian Idol RPF, Canadian Music RPF, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Accidental Self-Harm, Alternate Timeline, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Inspired by Music, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Present Tense, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Written in 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarchangelSkye/pseuds/DarchangelSkye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Lyrics in title and section breaks knicked from "One and Only" (ft. Timbaland), "Moving Pictures", "The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys and a Broken Down Van)", "The Take Over, The Breaks Over", "Golden", "The Music Or The Misery", "Snitches And Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers," "If You Could Remember" (ft. Damnation A.D.), "I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)", "Hum Hallelujah", and "Calm Before The Storm"- all likely taken horribly out of their original context.<br/>Takes place in February '09 and goes under the assumption Mookie had won.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Want To Be Better Than I Am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xavierurban](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavierurban/gifts).



> Lyrics in title and section breaks knicked from "One and Only" (ft. Timbaland), "Moving Pictures", "The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys and a Broken Down Van)", "The Take Over, The Breaks Over", "Golden", "The Music Or The Misery", "Snitches And Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers," "If You Could Remember" (ft. Damnation A.D.), "I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me &amp; You)", "Hum Hallelujah", and "Calm Before The Storm"- all likely taken horribly out of their original context.  
> Takes place in February '09 and goes under the assumption Mookie had won.

_*"Go to hell" is all I thought for seven weeks_  
but I grew out of that phase looking at these broken photographs of people  
looking glossed just like the way I still remember a summer ago*

Mookie has never been in an earthquake. He's never felt the amazing and terrifying sensation of the moment when, without warning, the ground heaves and buckles under your feet.

But getting the text message is pretty close.

_Mooks- Seven's Angel in town. I'm at park. You busy? -J$_

If not for the numbers matching, he could swear someone's playing a prank on him, as Jesse was usually never that direct.

Hell of a trick to play after eight months.

Once Mookie regains his breath and his knees have stopped buckling, he looks over his shoulders as if someone is watching. It's insane to even consider it. Management really disapproves of their meal tickets running off whenever the urge strikes them, not to mention Mom worries a lot.

But somehow he just _has_ to know.

_Be right there._

With shaking fingers he presses Send, and immediately wonders if he's made another colossal mistake. The other being letting Jesse get to him in the first place.

_*We're all "has beens" and "never-were's"_  
As if we cared  
Enough to try to catch up  
Enough to make up for lost time*

Jesse stands huddled by a tree, black hoodie pulled up over him and a hand balancing a tray with two coffees that warm his numb fingers. It's barely February, meaning there's still some patches of gray slush left on the ground, but the anticipation chills him all the same. This is when he wonders if memorizing Mookie's tour schedule was such a great idea after all...

His free hand fumbles in his pocket, then he remembers the no-smoking notices and clucks his tongue. Too bad, he was gonna need some nicotine-induced courage for what was ahead of him. He has a hell of a lot of explaining to do... _Forgive me, Mookie._

As if on cue, he can see the kid's profile approaching. His pants ride low a little, exposing the gray waistband of his shorts that rest snugly against his hip, Mookie's beautiful brown as a berry skin. Normally anything related to Mookie and his underwear lead straight to funtime, but seeing him in profile is only a saddening reminder of how things have changed since July.

The camera really _does_ add ten pounds.

Then they're finally eye-to-eye.

_*Don't pretend you ever forgot about me.*_

Mookie raises his eyes to directly look at Jesse. Black hoodie, ripped jeans, a couple days unshaven- he really shouldn't be the teen's type at all. But he's still breaking his heart.

He takes a deep breath, one of the several he's had during the walk over to calm down. He's not going to lose his cool and blow up at Jesse. He'll just hear what the young man has to say and simply walk away, something they're both familiar with.

"Hi."

"Hey, Mookie." Jesse smiles and hands over one of the coffees.

He's gonna regret it later, but he _is_ thirsty. Mookie stares down the drink as if it could be laced and takes a gulp, hitting his belly like a liquid fire.

"So, what're _you_ doing here?" he asks with more venom than intended.

But Jesse doesn't take any offense. "We're playin' the Madrid tonight. Kids opening for us, Shoot the Pilot, are doin' their sound check but I couldn't stand stayin' for it."

Mookie nods sleepily. Even with the caffeine shot, somehow looking Jesse in the eye has become impossible.

"So, you're doin' good. Video's in post-production, I hear?"

The teen raises a curious eyebrow. "How did you...?"

"I remember things."

The cool exterior Mookie plans to keep up crumbles in that casual statement. His fingernails dig into the Styrofoam cup and his hands shake. "You remember my tour schedule but don't remember to call or write me after you left Toronto?"

_*How cruel is the golden rule?_  
When the lives we lived are only golden-plated  
And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me*

Jesse knew this would happen, and he can't blame the kid. He swallows his coffee and awaits the rest of the verbal assault.

"Not even when I won, Jesse! I kept my phone on all night waiting for you...even Katelyn bothered to call for crying out loud...but I guess you were too busy scoring rock star points and having Matthew Good drool swimming pools all over you in Chart Attack magazine to think about who you left behind."

Ouch. But this is no time for self-pity.

Even Jesse would admit he's the more open crier of the two. Yet seeing Mookie's eyes, even more puppy-dog wide and sorrowful than usual, is enough to break anyone's heart. He drops his gaze briefly to his hands where the stitches have just about healed ("Jess, you're a freakin' idiot," Tony had said when that happened), as if they'll give him the courage to own up.

"I know, Mookie," he lowers his voice. "People make dumb mistakes-"

"And yours tops the list; at least I _tried_ contacting you. What the hell did you do, block everything to ever do with me?"

The sorrow is replaced by pure anger, the teen's eyes smoldering in anything but love. Jesse shuts his own and silently counts to keep calm. No good the both of them making a scene.

"Please, Mookie, just let me explain."

_*It was never about the songs, it was competition.  
Make the biggest scene, make the biggest seen*_

It's no coincidence explain to close to excuse. Mookie folds his arms over his chest and puts one foot back, ready to bolt. He's ashamed of himself of after eight months that his stomach still turns cartwheels at Jesse- whether out of hate or love is anyone's guess at this point.

Jesse sets down his coffee and kneads his eyebrows like he's won't to do in thought. "Honestly, Mookie, you know I wasn't in this to win anything for myself. All the guys with bands...Jacob, Liam, Gary...the format's just a stepping stone. It hardly does anyone good to..." Mookie furrows his brows and Jesse cuts off however he was planning to finish that. "Winning's just not what I wanted," he lamely substitutes. "It would've meant burning my bridges with Tony and I'd never let that happen."

He _looks_ sincere in what he's saying with his blue eyes dimmer than usual, but Mookie's not going to be taken in (again/yet, anyway).

"But after the show, with all the attention...yeah, I took my chance and ran with it. Hell with the consequences, I thought. After working my ass off for years, I thought if I didn't take it now I'd never have it again!"

"While leaving me behind?"

_*Show me a starry-eyed kid_  
And I will break his jaw  
I won't let him get his hopes up  
And I will save him from himself*

It's the truth and it hurts, especially with Mookie's accusing eyes. Jesse wishes he could sit but he's pulled enough weak actions already. Instead he looks back down to his scarred knuckles.

"I was getting there, Mookie. I know it was selfish leaving people and friends behind...all kinds of screwed up. That's what fame does to you if you're not careful."

The teen stands with his feet spread a little and arms still crossed, as if daring to say "That's not happening to _me_." Jesse looks upon this with a heavy heart, fearful that the young sweet soul who captivated him was already changed. He told himself one of these days he'd warn Mookie of the danger. _Obviously not now, it isn't the time, but if he's still talking to me after all this, I'll take him somewhere a little more quiet, and tell him about it. If it's not too late. For the both of us._

He musters one for breath for courage. "I know I screwed up big-time. There isn't any good reason why you should forgive me for how I acted. Except...I'm trying to be better," he finishes with faint hope.

_*I hate myself for letting things fall apart_  
I hate myself not seeing things from the start  
I hate the fact we act like we don't even know each other*

Mookie is so close to kicking gray sludge in his (pretty) face and walking off. Seriously, the _balls_ of this guy!

But he quivers his mouth. "You must think I'm stupid-"

"No, far from it." Jesse puts his hand near his mouth- _Afraid of letting the truth out?_ "Nobody who's able to cope like you did is stupid. This whole Idol reign isn't a responsibility many could handle."

Mookie's eyes flicker in amazement, not at the older man's words, but what he just noticed on the hand. "Jess...what happened to your hand?"

"Nothing," he mutters. "It's dumb."

"Jesse." For a moment the old concern is back.

"I...I punched a mirror a while back."

Mookie feels his throat tighten and steel heart threatening to crumble. What could make Jesse that angry, wasn't he supposed to be on top of the world? "You...why?"

Silence.

"Jess?"

He sighs, his voice wavery. "I don't know. Do you remember when you were a kid if you messed up, you could call a do-over and try again?"

The teen props a hand on the tree to stay steady. "Yeah," he says weakly. "I remember."

"Well, I guess I finally figured out there's no more do-overs," Jesse explains and dabs at his eyes.

It shouldn't be that easy to understand, but somehow, for Mookie, it does. Sooner or later he always understood the curiosities Jesse came up with. It's one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place.

_Ohgod._

He holds tighter to the bark and looks to his feet, as if making sure they won't buckle from under him again. "Dammit, now _I'm_ confused here."

"Punch a mirror," Jesse says like he's kidding, like it's that easy.

Like he really hasn't changed at all.

Even if that last part isn't entirely true. People grow and change over time, flow with the circumstances or get trampled by them. No one's immune, for better or worse.

_And I'm no better._

_*Last year's wishes_  
Are this year's apologies  
Every last time I come home  
I take my last chance  
To burn a bridge or two*

There's silence for a long moment as Jesse stares at the crumbled teen. Somehow it feels like July again, just before he had to leave and uncertainty hung in the air. He figures he has one last chance to get through to someone who was (is?) a dearest friend. He steps forward to lay his scarred hand on the kid's shoulder.

Doesn't even flinch.

"Mookie...I'm sorry for everything. You needed me and I cut and ran into my own spotlight, and I've spent the last eight months kicking myself for being a coward. Like I said, I don't know if you can forgive me any more than I forgive myself- which really isn't a lot-"

Mookie raises his head, and there's that lost and lonely look again.

"It's gonna take a while."

Jesse nods. He knows it'll be more than one conversation, but the good thing about trust is you get to earn it back.

"I'm sorry too, Jess. All this time I thought you've been a complete asshole, and that doesn't make me any better-"

"Hey, you weren't _completely_ wrong," Jesse interrupts, and for the first time in ages, the young men share a quiet laugh. It's something he's missed so much. "But seriously, I don't wanna be a jerk anymore."

Mookie lifts a hand so it holds Jesse's and slowly brings it down, the grip tentative but hopeful. "We both have a lot of things to work on."

_*It's all a game of this or that, now versus then_  
better off against worse for wear  
And you're someone who knows someone who knows someone I once knew  
And I just want to be a part of this*

Jesse half-shuts his eyes and nods a few times, making the teen wonder what he could be pondering. Whatever the case is, they know they're both right.

"What're you doin' tonight, exactly? Your show's not 'til tomorrow..."

"Oh, uh-" Mookie looks to his watch and remembers. "They booked me an acoustic set at WKBR. I guess I better head back before they all start panicking."

Jesse smiles and releases the young hand. "If I text you the location, could you come to the Madrid after? I'll leave your name at the door so you can get in."

He could jump for joy at this attempt being made to reconnect, but he has to keep cool _somewhere._ He only smirks and jokes, "You're a corrupter of innocent children."

"Yeah, me an' Marilyn Manson." Jesse throws his head back with pride and grins widely, the same grin that never fails to make Mookie happy, whether he has a choice or not.

"I'll try to make it."

Jesse claps his friend's shoulder. "See ya then."

_You too._ He doesn't say it, but rubs Jesse's hand affectionately (as if wanting to heal the scars perhaps) and takes a step back. Before he goes back the way he came, Jesse's smile is a good sight to leave on.

_*You said, between your smiles and regrets: "Don't say it's over."*_


End file.
